drink to the All-Father's eye for Odin's sons are we
by patientalien
Summary: After dying on the Statesman, it takes Loki a long time to get back to Thor. What he finds when he gets there is not what he expected. ENDGAME SPOILERS
1. Chapter 1

SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME

88888888888

It takes Loki five full years to drag himself out of the underworld and back to the land of the living. It's not the most unpleasant journey he has ever undergone, but it's not an experience he wishes to repeat any time soon. He hasn't kept much abreast of what has been happening besides hoarding the knowledge that Thor managed to survive the Decimation (and hadn't THAT been an interesting day in Hel), but in his travels he has come to some conclusions. Either the Time Stone has been being put to extremely gratuitous use, or there is some seriously odd sorcery afoot because Loki crosses paths with… himself. An idiot version of himself who has allowed the power of the Space Stone to completely warp his mind, and Loki had left him and his ravings behind. No, Loki was not that man anymore. He never really was.

It takes time to reach Midgard, and then it takes time to find Thor. It's not as though Loki can just go knocking on the Avengers' front door. He settles for some basic subterfuge; the Decimation has clearly impacted security protocols because it is ridiculously easy to stroll right past the guard towers and into the facility. Stark has clearly been lax in keeping the data files shielded and then it takes Loki no time at all to read about Midgard's treaty with the Village of Asgard (and Loki tries not to think about the sharp pang in his chest at that thought, once-great Asgard reduced to the population of a small fishing village).

He considers shielding his presence at first, but then decides not to. Better to give them some warning of his approach. Who knows how they might respond to a shadow within their shadows. He finds himself struggling to swallow the anxiety of seeing Thor again. The last he had seen of his brother had been the moment he had died, neck broken, starved for air. Loki suppresses a shiver and walks towards the village, keeping his body language open. Their returned prince, their savior. Thor's brother. In all his travels these past five years, Loki has discovered that it is the last part that matters the most. That, perhaps, sentiment is not so bad.

The Valkyrie is the first to see him, which is not particularly a surprise, though it is a little annoying that her first move is to knee him squarely in the crotch followed by a right hook to the jaw. "I will admit, that was not quite the warm welcome I was expecting," he informs her once he can breathe again.

"How long have you been alive?" she demands, voice a sharp hiss, blade drawn in his direction. Despite her aggressive stance, Loki can tell her focus is split, that she's keeping part of her attention at some point past his head. "How long?" she demands when he does not answer right away. Because he isnt entirely certain how to answer that one.

"Days, only," Loki decides upon, realizing that if he admits the five years were not spent exclusively in the afterlife he will likely be going back there very soon. "I just found out where I should be looking for you."

She doesn't look entirely convinced, but she lowers the knife and takes a step back into a more casual position. "In that case, I'm glad you're back. Maybe YOU can talk some sense into your idiot brother."

Well, things must not be so bad if Thor is still acting like an idiot, Loki thinks. "And what mess must I rescue him from now?" he asks, but the look on Valkyrie's face is not the one of fond exasperation that everybody tends to get when talking about Thor's more reckless side. Her expression is strained, and sad. Loki feels his guts twist, just a little.

"You remember how I was on Sakaar," Valkyrie ventures carefully, as if trying to work out how to give Loki the information he needs without outright speaking ill of her king.

Loki remembers. He hadn't given much thought to Scrapper 142 until Thor had showed up on Sakaar (to ruin everything, the nasty little voice in the back of Loki's head that, no matter how hard he tries, he can't quite seem to get ride of, sneers), but she had been in the Grandmaster's inner circle so their paths had crossed. At the time, Loki had been fairly focused on his own methods of grieving but he knows what she's referring to. "I did notice you're remarkably more sober than the last time I saw you," he comments when she doesn't continue speaking. A poke, a prod, it's what he's good at.

Her face contorts unpleasantly. "Hard not to be when all our alcohol shipments are immediately allocated for royal use and when SOMEBODY has to act like they're interested in the good of our people." She scowls. "Although since you're back, I guess that job is yours now. Good luck, Your Highness." She gives him a shallow, bitterly teasing bow.

"Just bring me to my brother," Loki demands, tiring of the game. Tiring of the conversation and tired of not being able to see for himself what Thor has gotten into. Valkyrie huffs a bit, but motions for him to follow her.

The Village of Asgard is picturesque, nestled around a small harbor packed with fishing boats and made up of architecture that does not look that dissimilar from the simpler common homes on Asgard-That-Was. There arent many people out and about this time of day, which Loki realizes is probably a good thing. He still isnt entirely sure how he's going to go about this. Surpri~ise, he sing-songs to himself in his head just as Valkyrie leads him down a dock to a dilapidated houseboat.

"Your Majesty?" Valkyrie calls out before they're even at the end of the dock.

The door to the house part of the boat pops open and Loki blinks in surprise as Korg pokes out his head. "Oi, he's takin' a nap right now, mate," the Kronan says. "Wanna come in?"

"No, but he does," Valkyrie says, shoving Loki forward. "You've got to fix this," she hisses in Loki's ear as she turns on her heel and marches back up the dock.

"Oh hey bro!" Korg says brightly upon noticing Loki's presence. "Glad you're not dead! Come on in!" He leads Loki inside, and Loki can't help the immediate, gut-wrenching recoil of disgust when he sees how his brother, the King of Asgard, the God of Thunder, is living. The boat is cluttered, as if Thor had simply dropped everything upon moving in and never bothered to put any of it away. There's an odor of stale sweat and liquor and other unpleasant things hanging heavy in the air, and dust mites swirl in the filtered light coming through the drawn blinds.

It reminds Loki, suddenly and unpleasantly, of his cell on Asgard, underneath the glamour. He had shown Thor the truth of himself, then. "I take it you're not here in a housekeeping capacity," Loki comments to Korg, keeping his voice low because he still hasn't seen Thor and he really doesn't want to surprise him into unthinking action. That's a good way to get electrocuted.

Korg gives a shrug. "Val asked us to keep an eye on him. You know, keep him from…" Korg draws a line across his throat with one pebbly finger and makes what Loki assumes is meant to be a choking noise. His own throat feels tight, suddenly. "But it's okay!" Korg adds, noticing Loki's stricken expression. "You came on cleaning day!"

Loki would wager this disgusting testament to depression and post-traumatic stress has never seen a cleaning day since it's current resident moved in, but he decides not to question it. "I would see my brother now," he says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. He had been king a couple times himself, after all.

Korg shrugs again and leads Loki to a door. Loki pushes it open and steps in, feeling like he is stepping into some kind of horrible alternate universe. Surely this could not be HIS Thor. Surely this unkempt, unwashed, and clearly broken version of Thor belongs to the Loki he had seen before, surely this isnt the Thor who he had promised the sunshine to.

Even in sleep, Thor looks like he is waging battle. It's hard to tell, given the thick, overgrown tangle of beard and hair, but Loki can see how tight Thor's expression is, the creases on his sickly, sallow face. He's gained a not insubstantial amount of weight, but still manages to look diminished. There's a bottle of whiskey curled in one arm, tucked up under his chin, and countless empties litter every available surface. He suddenly understands Valkyrie's bitterness as Thor's hypocrisy rears its head. Still, Loki isnt so foolish as to think Thor is acting rationally.

He stands there awkwardly for a time, glancing around at the rest of the room. Theres a battle axe positively oozing with dark magic propped against the wall – Thor had gotten his hint about Nidavillir, at least – but that's the only thing that would otherwise brand this room as Thor's. He's tempted to turn tail and run, to pretend he'd never come here, to pretend he's still dead and gone. Then he wouldn't have to do this. He wouldn't have to try and be the steady one, he wouldn't have to try and fix something that he isnt sure is within his power to fix. Something he himself had contributed to breaking.

His decision is made for him in short order as Thor wakes with a strangled, "Loki, no!" The God of Thunder blinks, raises a hand, rubs his eyes, moans, and drinks down the rest of the bottle in his hand, letting the empty container drop to the floor with its fellows. Then his gaze rises and his eyes meet Loki's. Eyes, Loki realizes, because along with having grown out the chop-job of a haircut he'd gotten on Sakaar, it seems Thor has managed to find himself a replacement eye. It's the wrong color, but Loki has always considered heterochromia to be one of the more aesthetically pleasing of mortal mutations.

"Loki?" Thor croaks, and lurches to his feet, stumbling backwards, away from Loki, shaking his head desperately. "No, I'm not falling for this again. Piss off, ghost!" He picks up a stray bottle and hurls it at Loki, who has to duck to avoid getting a face full of broken glass.

"Don't throw things at me, you ridiculous oaf!" Loki snarls, finding himself having to sidestep a pile of what looks – and smells – very much like vomit. "I drag myself all the way out from Hel, and this is what I find you doing?" True, neither of them had really been taught decent coping mechanisms in the court of Odin, and Loki did always privately think that Thor's penchant for mead would bite him in the ass one day, but this is more than he had expected. Worse. A berserker rage, he could handle easily. This? No. This is not his Thor. It can't be.

"Oh, we've been over this," Thor slurs, rolling his eyes enormously, turning away from Loki and busying himself with finding something new to drink. "I'm a disappointment. I failed. I couldn't save… it's my fault, and you don't have to keep rubbing it in." KEEP rubbing it in, he had said, and Loki lets out a slow breath. He doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to do this. This isnt his Thor. It cant be.

"I'm here," he says instead of fleeing, taking several steps forward and placing hands on Thor's shoulders. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." He wants to disappear. He doesn't know if he can look into Thor's glossy eyes and pretend everything will be okay. He isnt sure he can lie to himself any longer.

Thor reaches back, grasping Loki's own shoulders. His lips move wordlessly as his eyes flit over every inch of Loki's form. "I watched you die," he breathes and Loki wonders how long in Thor's presence before he gets drunk just from the fumes. "I watched and then I couldn't even…" He breaks off, furiously, then shakes himself as he spots an almost-full bottle on the dresser. "I'm tired of mourning you," he admits.

"Yes, well, it's not exactly a walk in the park for me, either," Loki retorts, still unsure of how to deal with this. His whiplash sharp mind churns, and he struggles to push down his feelings: grief, disbelief, anger. And simmering beneath that is annoyance, and bitterness, like old friends come back around. Loki hates how Thor brings that out in him, but he hates himself more for still feeling it. "Listen to me. I am truly here, brother. I have… I have come home." It may be the cruelest lie he's ever told either of them: no version of Asgard could ever truly be his home.

Thor blinks, and Loki can't tell if the shining brightness of his eyes is from drink or tears. "Loki…" He shakes his head. "You're really here?" He sounds like he wants to believe it so badly that if Loki were to rescind the statement he might just drop dead from grief.

"I'm really here," Loki assures him, and accepts the responding bone-crushing, sweaty, embrace with as much dignity as he can muster.

If this were one of the fairy tales Mother would send them off to bed with, this would be the end. Thor and Loki would live happily ever after, healthy and hale, watching over their people together as the rest of the world grew old. If this were one of Mother's fairy tales, progress would be a straight line, and would be a quick thing. Loki knows that this is not a fairy tale, and that Thor's momentary brightness will dim again soon enough. Loki knows perfectly well that moving on is never so easy as all that. Hel, he'd had to die three times before he had gotten the hang of it.

Still, he can accept the rest of it. Or at least, he thinks he can. Loki knows his strength lies in squirming his way out of uncomfortable situations, not sticking around and enduring them. He isnt sure he trusts himself not to fall back into his own old habits here, but he has a feeling if he were to betray Thor again, he would wind up with another death on his hands. And that itself is enough for Loki to banish any thought of leaving.

After what feels like a hundred lifetimes being held in Thor's crushing embrace, his brother pushes away and hefts his bottle. "This calls for a celebration!" he exclaims and it's like switch has been flipped; Thor is boisterous, now, shouting out the door for Korg and Miek to tell Valkyrie to plan a party in Loki's honor, but then deciding to head outside and yell to anyone around to hear him that WE'RE HAVING A PARTY FOR LOKI, GUYS! LOKI'S BACK! A thread of seidr keeps him from toppling into the water and Thor grins at him when he realizes who his savior was. "I knew it was you," he says.

Loki raises an eyebrow, outwardly unimpressed but inwardly trying to figure out how best to do some damage control with the people of Asgard to keep their faith in their king intact, provided they had any left, of course. "You seemed convinced I was a dream not moments ago," Loki points our, but Thor pretends not to hear him, bellowing out orders for the party he now seems convinced is happening.

"Thor," Loki says, taking a step forward and putting a hand on Thor's arm. May as well start that damage control now. Hadn't that always been their parents' intention? It had taken Loki years after the fact to realize it: Thor may have been meant to be king, but he was never meant to rule alone. Loki would have been there to balance Thor's brash arrogance, would be there to smooth over ruffled feathers, to employ his silver tongue where Thor's brute strength was not the right weapon. He had come to this knowledge far too late, but at least now… at least now he can give it a try. And his first act as Crown Prince of the Village of Asgard will be to prevent his brother the king from embarrassing himself in front of what remains of their people.

"I appreciate the thought," Loki continues, "but truly I was hoping for my first days back to be spent more… privately." Let Thor take from that what meaning he would like; Loki intends to accommodate him if his desires head down a more carnal path. But, to be quite frank, Loki isnt positive that Thor is quite up to performing at the moment. Well, regardless. It's the outcome that matters: getting Thor back inside.

"But the party -" Thor protests, looking from Loki to the small group of Asgardians who had gathered to see what all the noise was.

"Later," Loki assures him, pulling him back inside without making it look like he's dragging him. "Later, Thor, I promise."

Thor looks at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Loki." His face splits into a ghastly smile even as tears roll down his cheeks. "My Loki."

Loki's heart tightens, his lungs seize, as he fights back a wave of familiar panic, this time at the idea that he may never truly get his brother back. Is this what Thor had felt, when they had fought on Midgard? Well, Loki truly does not care for the feeling one bit. "My Thor," he responds, and this time, he is the one to initiate the hug. "We will get through this. The sun will shine on us again, brother."

"The last time you said that, you died," Thor points out, flatly.

"Yes. Well, I'm not planning on repeating myself again," Loki responds. "I'm here, brother. I'm here." He has a feeling he is going to be repeating himself in that many times over. He leads Thor to the sofa, worn and stained, and sits them both down.

For the good of Thor, for the good of Asgard. For the good of himself. "I'm not going anywhere," he emphasizes. He's not. He doesn't need to run anymore.

Maybe, Loki thinks as Thor dozes off on his shoulder, snoring loudly, maybe this could be home. Somebody has to whip the king back into shape, after all. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs and this time, it doesn't feel like a lie.

-tbc-

Actions


	2. Chapter 2

Cleaning day, as it turns out, has nothing to do with the upkeep of the King of Asgard's squalid abode. Instead, cleaning day turns out to be the day on which the King of Asgard himself is cleansed. "We gotta do it today, bro," Korg informs Loki some time after Thor has fallen asleep on Loki's shoulder. "Otherwise the whole schedule's thrown off. He won't wanna do it again 'till next month!"

Loki's stomach rolls as he looks down at Thor, at the cakey mess of his beard, at the matted grime of his hair. Growing up, Thor had loved nothing more than a long, decadent bath, often indulging in more than one each day. Now he is only bathing once a month? If that? Oh, no, absolutely not. That is going to be the first thing Loki changes about this arrangement. "He needs to bathe every day," Loki informs Korg. "This is non-negotiable." He can deal with the drinking later. The conditions in this dingy boat need to improve immediately.

Loki shifts slightly, trying to gauge the depth of Thor's sleep. His brother snorts softly and rolls off the sofa with a loud thump, springing to his feet with the unsteady grace of a man who is not only extremely intoxicated, but who is unused to being considerably heavier than he once was. His hands raise in a defensive position, fists clenched in front of his face. It takes him a moment to regain a sense of reality, and his bleary eyes focus on Loki.

"Loki… Loki!" Thor grins widely, flinging his arms out to the sides. "I am so – you stayed!" Loki shoves the guilt that awed statement sparks deep, deep down.

"Of course I stayed, you moron," Loki snaps instead of apologizing for making Thor ever doubt him. Loki has had considerably longer to come to terms with his fate; truly, he feels better than he has in years. Still, his own emotional well-being is still somewhat tentative, and if he has to put this wall up to protect himself AND Thor (because if he doesn't have a shield, he will run, and that will be the end of Thor), well, so be it. "You wanted me back, well now you're stuck with me."

Thor gazes at him, for a long, long time and for a moment Loki wonders if Thor has fallen asleep with his eyes open. But then, suddenly, Thor takes a deep, shuddery breath and visually steels himself. "Right. Okay." He spins around for a moment until finding an unopened beer, cracking it open and chugging it down without pausing for breath. "That's much better." He shakes himself and Loki suddenly realizes that perhaps his presence is… going to complicate things, a little. "Oh, sorry, you want one?"

As if he hadn't just clearly had some kind of – what was that, even? As if Loki is just a regular everyday visitor. Loki suppresses a shiver, wondering just how far Thanos had pushed Thor in order to break him like this. "You've had plenty for both of us," he comments blandly. He isnt interested in picking a fight, though. He is already strategizing how to get Thor into the bath; no need to overcomplicate things for the time being. "Korg says its cleaning day," he adds, deciding to adopt Thor's newly-casual tone.

The King of Asgard grunts, crushing the empty can and snatching up another. "Nah, it can wait," he says, waving dismissively as he settles heavily back onto the sofa.

"It really cannot," Loki counters, putting some distance between them to illustrate his point. "You smell like the goat barn." Worse, actually, but Loki only has so much energy for kicking his brother when he's down. Once, the idea of Thor dishonored and humiliated in such a manner would have given him no end of pleasure. Now, it just makes him uncomfortable. He wonders if admitting that to Thor would help or not, but then realizes that for all his tongue is silver and his words carefully smithed, he is unable to articulate just what it is that is making his guts feel like they're being twisted every time he looks at his brother. No, sentiment may not be as bad as he had previously believed, but it is still not the sort of thing Loki traffics in.

Thor looks over at him and makes a move as if he's about to speak, but then seems to reconsider, turning his attention back to the beer in his hand. "You'll still be here after?" he asks so softly after such a long period of silence that his voice is almost startling. "I know you're not real, but this is much better than most of them. Could almost believe it." He shakes his head, eyes not moving from something on the floor. "I shouldn't have to take a bath when I'm asleep," he pouts, as if simply accepting the fact Loki is a delusion and deciding to play along.

Loki rubs his thumb against the palm of his opposite hand, his emotions roiling far, far too close to the surface. He nearly stands, then, nearly bolts for the door. Or better, he schemes reflexively, wait until Thor has passed out and leave then. Let him think this had all been a dream. Let him have that comfort, of a nice afternoon spent with his long-dead younger brother. He digs his thumbnail into the flesh of his palm and twists to keep himself from acting on the impulse. "I would think taking a dream bath would be better," Loki manages, deciding that his previous decision not to pick a fight should extend to arguing about the reality of his existence with a man who can barely keep his eyes from crossing as he turns his focus back to Loki. "Since you're going to have three people catering to you. Well. One person, a pile of rocks, and a bug, anyway –"

Thor pulls away abruptly. "You don't have to help," he says. "I'll do it." He pulls himself upright, onto his feet, and somehow manages to stay there. "I don't need you to do that."

"Thor…"

All previous semblance of pleasantry drains from Thor's expression, replaced with a murderous, furious, explosive rage. "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" he bellows, taking a step towards Loki, who springs to his own feet and vaults over the sofa to keep something between himself and Thor who, despite his current physical and mental condition, would still be very capable of causing Loki some real harm if he tried. "I HAVENT NEEDED YOU FOR FIVE YEARS! I NEEDED YOU THEN BUT YOU GOT YOURSELF KILLED!" He sags, suddenly, and lists to one side, angry tears rolling down his cheek. "I'm fine without you. I'm fine without you." He swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, clearly trying to get ahold of himself. "I'm fine."

Instead of pointing out the obvious error in Thor's assessment of himself, Loki sighs and says, "I did have a plan, you know." He had, but it had been based on assumptions of how mortals he had met for five minutes a decade previously would act, and more importantly, how THOR would act. Clearly, his assumptions had been wrong. "I meant to be back much sooner." This is dancing dangerously close to a real conversation, so Loki pulls hard on his feelings to bring things up short. Neither of them are ready for a real conversation yet. "Come on, brother. It's just a dream, let me help you. If it's just a dream, there's no harm done."

It occurs to Loki that the real reason Thor is hesitant to accept his help has to do with the fact he now rivals Volstagg for largest Asgardian Loki has ever seen, and he lets a fond smirk settle across his features. "And it's not as though I've never helped you bathe before."

"There was less of me, then," Thor points out sullenly, confirming Loki's suspicion, as well as telling him that Thor's ability to emotionally regulate himself has been absolutely destroyed just as surely as anything else Thanos had ruined.

Loki rolls his eyes. "Thor, nothing that I will see when your clothes come off will be a surprise. I do have eyes, you know." He wants to reassure Thor that nothing will change Loki's feelings for him, that no changes to Thor's once-godly physique could impact what Loki sees in his mind's eye when he thinks about his brother. But all of that is too much, too real, and he can't. "Don't worry about it. Getting that – what is that, a bird's nest? – out of your beard will make a world of difference."

Thor seems to consider both Loki's words and the contents of his beer with equal intensity and it isn't until he has emptied three more cans that he speaks again. "Yeah. Alright. S'a dream. Can't hurt. But you – you're not allowed to laugh at me, brother."

Loki's heart twists. "I wouldn't dream of it," he says, fully truthful, and then he takes Thor's arm to guide him to the bath.

-tbc-

Actions


End file.
